Shadow knelt to pick up the body of his long ago lover. Only his face could be seen in his characteristic black cloak. He threw it over his body trying to not concentrate on what he had done. Doing that meant not looking at the handsome face he had once loved. When he went in the front door, he had to force his blurry eyes to focus on the house. It was the same he had left. It was not a similar reproduction, or even a different location. My Gods, he had never moved! Why? So Shade would know where to come when he came back to him, he wondered. Heaven forbid it! This was his home...This house held more memories than he ever wanted to relive. He closed his eyes again to block out the shadowed view of the foyer, trying to block out the feelings of confusion, grief, and worst of all...his combined terror and love. Tarkin had maimed him for fleeing! Why hadn't he moved? He had hunted him! Whispering a million ways to torture and kill him into his ears...if he had found him. If he had caught him...all of the things he would do to make him pay. Why should he be the one to pay; Tarkin was the one, not him! Tarkin had hurt him, he thought bitterly. He seemed to always be hurting him.
He drew in a deep breath shuddering as he followed the long hallway into the darkened foyer ahead. The stairs were there. He had always loved the way they looked; one set going up to split into two, curling along the back wall in opposite directions. They went to their bedrooms. He took the right side up. Knowing the layout by heart, he kept his eyes closed when he entered his chamber. It did seem to block out most of the memories the sight was certain to invoke. Somehow, he knew his old love had not changed a single detail. This especially, he did not want to see. Not now, not yet, he thought wearily. He felt the edge of the bed at his knees and let the master of the house slide down slowly onto it. Then, he turned and fled the room. He could almost hear the mocking laughter trailing behind him as he went back down. He would have to return after he was certain no one else remained inside the house.
He sealed the upper floors with a simple spell laid at the bottom of the stairs. It would keep anyone from going up to Tarkin'ton...just as it would keep Tarkin'ton from coming downstairs should he not be quite as dead as he seemed. Shadow winced at the mere idea. Then, his entire body weakened and he hit the hard floor in pain. He knelt closing his barely useful eyes to counteract the rising nausea. He wondered if it was his eyes adjusting to the light that was making him so ill. It was particularly blinding, even shadowed the way Tarkin kept it. All of the colors and lights were often so blurred he could barely tell what he was looking at; some were so bright he would focus upon them to the exclusion of all else. He was tempted to keep them permanently closed. Yet here of all places, he knew he would need them.
He got back up and listened for any sounds in the solemn house. There was someone in the kitchen, he thought. The noise had attracted him, but the furtive sound was purposely soft. The person was trying to hide. He tried to go there, but his body only stumbled in the general direction. Why was he so weak all of the sudden? He didn't have long to worry over it. Something hard and swift struck him right across the face! He was shocked by the suddenness of the attack; the person could have killed him without trying very hard at all. Instead, a creature that looked like a dead woman he had once known leapt over him. She was just a little younger than a matching boy who dropped whatever weapon he had used and cautiously tried to step over his prone body. The boy was watching him for any sign of movement, he knew just by the slow way he approached. His eyes had closed as he had fallen. Doubtless, both children believed him unconscious. He shouldn't need them to catch this prey. He grasped the ankle that passed over his head. The boy panicked screaming in terror and falling across his body as he tried to yank himself free. Shadow studied the dark indigo of his skin as he babbled in some odd aquatic language. It wasn't Mer, but he could break it down into a few understandable words as he listened.
"...don't hurt...hungry! Please...forgive...protect her." Shade grew still as he met the boy's frightened eyes. His skin was very dark, not the usual pale pastel that so many were fond of using. It was also rather thick like an animal's hide. His hair was a long, tangled mass of purple so rich and deep it was unreal to look at it. His violet eyes were much softer seemingly an innocent blending of the other two, paled down to a lighter shade. He looked close to fourteen which made his sister far too young to be in this house! Using the hand that held the kid, he levered himself up into a sitting position. A tiny tattoo on the side of the boy's neck cleverly advertised that he did not need to be a linguist to understand anyone who spoke to him. It was a spell, permanently embedded into his body to translate any words spoken near him.
"Can you cook?" The boy was damned nervous splayed across his lap. He nodded, glancing at the girl with a baffled expression. "Is there any food in there?" Again, they nodded looking at him oddly. "The two of you can make everyone dinner, then. I will send up anyone I find below. I'll let them eat before I send them away. Hell, they are probably all starving! Take care of them..." He used the captured ankle to push the boy into the kitchen and used a spell to seal him inside. The girl followed before he could tell her to stop when Shadow moved out of her way. He almost didn't notice the disgruntled look on the boy's face as he recovered from the amateur spell. It was too late. She was trapped inside with him. He had made the spell specifically to hold them both. He would have to personally see them back to their own home later, or find someone trustworthy to take them there for him. His balance wavered. He knew he couldn't rest until it was safe, but his body was shutting down around him. He had to half slide down the stairs to the dungeons fighting off severe dizziness. Had Ashra done something to him other than remove the deadly hunting mark? Something was definitely wrong!
He shook it off enough to get the keys down from a hook on the stone wall. The main dungeon area was chilly and silent. The two guards were gone. Had Collin taken them? There was no one else here. Four cells on one wall must have housed the pair in the kitchen and the girl the slaver had taken with him. He knew there were more. Shadow doubted even Collin had been able to find all of Tarkin'ton's dark secrets. He had to move the silver cage to the side. It drained what little energy he had left. Beneath it was an ordinary stone floor without any detectable enchantments. Resting his body against the cool stones, he tried to regain enough strength to open the hidden passage. "Oh, please...just let me finish this," he begged. "After that, I give up..." It took a while before he could begin to claw at the heavy stones. Instantly, shadows engulfed his entire body swarming along his hands. It tightened over his arms, his neck, and chest. There was a massive weight of pressure against his eyes and throat. No matter how hard the shadow minion tried to hurt him, it could not! It howled and screeched in fury raising a wind in protest as his fingers found a groove. As it lifted, the shadow fled in defeat. He pushed and lost his balance as the rest of the stone popped free. Groaning, he hit the solid rock floor below in a pile of shattered stone. Blood seeped from his head and one of his hands making his stomach cramp in hunger. "Later," he whispered promising himself. He could not feed upon half-starved whelps.
He unlocked each cell. Then, he began again. Starting on the left side, he opened the first door he came to, but it looked empty. There was a desk with a heavy book upon it and a drape covering one small area of the wall. He opened every drawer releasing nearly two dozen small, winged people trapped inside of them. They fled in a shower of pixie dust leaving only one tiny female. She kissed his cheek leaving specks of glitter behind as she too winked out with a grin. Shadow snorted in mild amusement. The drape hid all of his most unpleasant memories except one. He had to part it to see if anyone was occupying the dungeon room beyond, but first... the heavy tome dropped into the now empty desk and it was locked closed. The book belonged to Tarkin'ton. There was a strong whiplash of power pulsing off of it! Trying to ignore the vile reminders of it, he stepped into the next room. Immediately, his heart broke all over again. Only the naked back and hair was visible from this angle, but he remembered the agony of being chained from the ceiling by the wrists alone.
The damp dungeon room was wet enough that two inches of water beneath the prisoner brushed gently along the creature's toes leaving ripples as the pulse alone caused it to move. They were rhythmic and strong; usually the person's pulse wasn't this noticeable. Its skin was a light pinkish tinge with an illusory over wash of darker reds and gold. The hair was like antique gold, yet streaks of lighter colors wove through it. The head rolled limply as something brushed the dangling feet and turned the prisoner to face him. He could tell before it had fully turned that the creature was a sun dragon. It was a strange, less powerful breed that had been created when the light clan and the fire clan had begun to mingle. There was a trademark sunburst tattoo on the right flank. The pretty male was also out cold, Shadow noticed. He looked carefully and saw the tiny red specks on his feet. Shadow sighed and kicked at the snake as it swam back for a second bump. It fled and he sealed its bolt hole so it could not return any time soon. Not able to carry him in his weakened state, he regretfully left him there.
The next room held three women all carefully chained facing each wall that did not include the door. They had rich clothing of silks, satin, lace and fur. In the center of the room, a male hung in a similar fashion to the one he had just left. This man was an overall shade of lime green and fairly well built, explaining why he had three comely lovers. He studied each of them. The females had pale-colored skin, but odd tints beneath the pearly opal of their flesh. The hair was each very vivid and bright. "Damn, Tar," he swore softly. "More dragons...I cannot imagine how you get away with that!" He had to actually climb up the male Glade dragon's body to unlock his wrists from the chains. A maneuver that no doubt broke them, he thought hearing the pops. The man hissed at him eyes snapping in pain and anger. "You will heal," he stated callously in his tired state as the male dragon dropped into a crouch holding his arms to his chest. Shadow quickly unchained the female dragons. He left them the moment they were free to keep the man from worrying. "There is food in the kitchens, children who need to go home, and an unconscious Sun dragon I could use a little help moving," he offered.
The man ignored him glaring spitefully. "Ungrateful, pig," he hissed at the stupid dragon. "Fine," he growled eyes reddening in fury. "Gather up your whores and get out! Quickly," he added in warning. The dragon went casually to check his lovers as the vampire left the room. He took a moment to calm himself not wanting to scare any of the prisoners worse than they already were now. He opened the next door only to shut it and throw up violently. Had the slaver found this section after all? Collin was known for his hatred of females. It was something he was rumored to do. No wonder his eyes had been so cold when he had left the house. The huge chamber was filled with young women. He hadn't looked close enough to tell what species, or see any faces. They were all dead. Every one of them in that room...slaughtered. Why had he not killed the dragons, too? A soft spot for the species, perhaps, he wondered trying to banish the image from his eyes. Worse was the smell! It made him so hungry; he wanted to go back into the room. He wiped away the fine blood sweat on his face and righted himself. The mess would have to be cleared away, maybe in a few months when the vermin had picked the bones.
